Threesomes, Regretful Snapchats, And Breaking & Entering: These Are Worst Stories From The Weekend

======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====

Last week? Not our best crop of stories. But with football back (kind of, not sure why everyone was so stoked for Colorado State vs. Oregon State but whatever) and fall nearing, sounds like the beers were flowin’ because we’ve got some stories for you this week.

On last Tuesday’s episode of Touching Base, we took from this segment and ran through one of the worst stories ever submitted – a fateful Chicago bar crawl that ended in shambles. We’ll be doing more of these going forward, so listen on iTunes and SoundCloud to see if you get featured. The episode from last week is featured below.

But as always, these are original stories from anonymous people. Presented to you without edits, these are the worst stories from this past weekend.

Buddy of mines girlfriend’s birthday weekend. Long story short, group chat texts consisted of “I don’t care how drunk I get!” from said buddy’s girlfriend. We live in a rural state so we decide to take out the UTV and go trail riding at 1 a.m. Get to the first part of the trail, girl gets sick and projectile vomits everywhere. Then it just goes downhill from there. She throws up 2 more times, I proceed to get as shitty as I can (note: I’m driving this UTV), ride this noisy ass thing up in a private neighborhood, break into my moms house and use her pool at 4 a.m. (my mom and I are NOT on speaking terms which is what makes this a risky move and her new husband is police officer), obviously the security goes off, caught on tape, the works. So, family holidays are going to be even worse than usual this year and I’ve been nursing a Four Loko, Southern Comfort, Miller Lite hangover mix for about a day now. Overall: solid weekend. 9/10 rating.

No, that is not a 9/10 rating. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul. Respect the law and, more importantly, respect your mother.

Furthermore, nursing “Four Loko, Southern Comfort, and Miller Lite” is no way to cure a hangover. That’s probably making your body deteriorate from the inside out.

So I’ve been enjoying a bender but I think yesterday things were taken really quite too far. I wish that I could say that I blacked out and accidentally did the things I did but looking back they were really all conscious decisions.

Me and my ROOMMATE vetted boys at a daylong to decide who we wanted to have a threesome with. Like a literal interview process. Found out later I sent a Snapchat of her eating me out to the wrong person (not sure there’s a right person for that but anyway). Someone took a shit in my apt building and I wish that I could say with a clear conscience that it wasn’t me but I’m not really sure that I have a solid alibi. Later went home with a dude who’s predominant language is Russian. Like I asked him to borrow a sweatshirt this morning and he didn’t know what one was. Yelled at his roommate for loving Putin too much. Did enjoy some traditional Russian food but this guy doesn’t understand how to season. Like he uses no salt whatsoever. Might be a cultural thing I’m not sure.

I’m leaving out the worst part of this whole scenario in case someone figures out who I am. Did meet a toucher this weekend so I hope that makes up for some of this. Dude looked exactly like Duda. Congrats on reaching the college demographic. I hope you believe this tale because I just reread it and it sounds fake. Please tell me everything will be ok.

I can’t tell you everything is going to be okay, but I can tell you that you should probably put the phone away while engaging in sexual activities. But I’m not here to judge. What you do in behind closed doors is your business, not ours.

Hey Will, Currently writing this from a crossfit competition at 10am.

Around 930 on Saturday night I get a call from one of my friends that my old boss is getting married and I should “come through.” So of course I’m down to clown and crash a wedding. I show up around 11, drove from Maryland to DC. I end up at a high end hotel where drinks are $15 each for cheapies and I’m trying to get on everyones level. They’re all multiple shots in and I’m just a little stoned, so I start drinking up a storm and build up quite a tab. A couple hours in and im in a few different bars, women dancing on polls, just a completely different part of DC then I’m used to. All the fun stuff you find in DC. Night comes to an end around 2:30am and I take my homie back to his place and I end up back in MD around 4, even though some of the girls I knew had extra places to stay at this hotel, but I declined (they were $2500 rooms), wish I would’ve stayed, probably would’ve been the move had I thought more about it.

I end up in bed around 4:30am, and I had to be up by 8am to get to my sister’s crossfit event. Not a fan of crossfit, but I support my family. Everyone here is looking at me like their better then me. Oh well. Sunday scaries are only at an all time high right now since my bank account won’t open and I can’t see how much I spent. (Also dropped $60 in ubers)

We get it, man. You recently got a raise. No need to drop the price of everything next time.

Just kidding but seriously – on the spectrum of events I’d least want to attend while hungover, CrossFit competition is probably close to the top of the list. Just a bunch of high energy people trying to one-up each other worse than they already do in everyday casual conversation, coupled with the regret of polluting your body all weekend? Have mercy.

So this weekend wasn’t my finest. I went out for a friends birthday dinner and the intention was to go out later. I call an Uber and I’m proud of myself because I arrived to the restaurant early. One problem, I left my wallet and keys in the Uber, while stone cold sober. Other problem, I did not notice at all.

My friend picked up the check and I venmo’d him, and we all uber back to his house so somehow I don’t notice my keys are missing. I’ve had a few drinks at this point. We all drink a lot at their apartment and everyone gets to drunk to go out. I end up calling an uber to go back to my apartment at about 1. When I get back to my apartment I finally realize that my wallet and keys are missing.

I call my uber driver and she doesn’t have them. I call my friends and they aren’t at the house. Then I call my first uber driver and he thankfully picks up and has them. Unfortunately he’s an hour away and says he will come bring me my keys tomorrow. So I have no keys, no wallet, and an iPhone that’s at 10%. My roommates iPhone is dead and he’s not home anyway. Thankfully someone let me in my apartment and I slept in the lobby. Waking up with Sunday Scaries and a horrible hangover and a horrible feeling. Hoping I can get my keys back now.

Required Reading: The Worst Things To Lose When You’re Drunk.

I wore some shallow-pocketed joggers to dinner on Saturday and Dave picked my wallet up off the ground and just handed it to me. Had no clue it was missing. Fast forward to 6 a.m. when I wake up on Ross’s couch and I can’t find my phone anywhere. His wife found it for me and I Ubered home in shame. So yeah, last night wasn’t exactly a great one.

Catching up on the pod and thought you’d get a kick out of this even though it’s not as terrible as every other person’s weekend. I went out with friends back home this weekend and requested Dua Lipa’s song “New Rules” (listen to this song if you don’t know it) and proceeded to record the world’s longest Snapchat of me singing it and sent it to my ex-boyfriend (we broke up a while ago so not sure why I sent it to him). Woke up grossly hungover and he just responded “lol”. Did not put on pants all day after that failure.

Be honest with yourself – you weren’t going to put pants on anyway. Not sure if this falls in the same category or not, but seems like Snapchatting yourself belting out a heater is in the same vein as Snapping a concert that no one else wants to see. At least you solidifed that you aren’t getting back together with him. He uses “LOL” after all, so you’re better off without him.

Sup fam,

So my boyfriend and I spent a Wednesday-Saturday long weekend in Nashville. It was both of our first times, but as veteran binge drinkers, we were confident we could handle it.

We could not.

We hit up just about every bar on Broadway, discovered pineapple flavored moonshine, ate pancakes at Pancake Pantry and hot chicken at Hattie B’s (even mild is too hot for a boy from Kansas, FYI).

However, the kicker came on Friday afternoon. After closing out a $210 bar tab at 11:00 AM, we went to a few bars on Broadway when my boyfriend gets a text from one of his college buddies who is a few years younger than us. “I’m going to be a daddy.”

My anxiety and fear of commitment as well as the 19+ drinks in my body all hit me at once, and I proceed to immediately vomit in Margaritaville. Luckily I made it to the bathroom, but I did not manage to close a door… You win some you lose some.

Overall, 10/10 weekend and 11/10 city. Will return.

Have been to Nashville. Can confirm the hot chicken is hotter than hell. Can also confirm that when mixed with a large quantity of draft beers, it will make your Sunday morning, well, burn.

And now for the kicker.

Let me first start this off by saying this, going out on this Saturday night that these events transpired was probably the last thing I wanted to do. I just wasn’t in the mood and wanted to have more of a chill night and a productive Sunday. That’s not what happened…

I first started off my night going to our local Applebee’s with my wife where we ordered food and a few alcoholic beverages. The apps were delish and the beer was cold. After we finished our meal I met up with my friend and his girlfriend. We came back to our house and had a few more drinks, I was planning on drinking some beer at our house but to my dismay I found the beers were full of mold. My guess would be from sitting in the basement fridge for too long. So the beer that I did have, which was still good, I gave to my friends. I decided to drink some lemonade and vodka. Mistake number 1.

After a few drinks at our house the 4 of us went to the local bar, had a few more mixed drinks and beers. This bar was kind of dead so we decided to leave and head to another bar closer to home. My wife had to work early the next morning so she called it a night, dropped us off and we proceeded to buy rounds for each other. Mind you these were rounds of jack and coke and beers. We kept this up for 2 or 3 rounds.

We then decided to go to another bar to meet up with more people we knew. Once we got to the new bar we did a few shots. By this time I was feeling pretty good and probably should have called it quits. Mistake number 2…. I saw someone from work so bought them a shot… or two… I can’t remember. After we took the shots I went out on the back patio and played some drinking games with our friends. By now there were about 10-12 of us on the patio. We as a collective decided to hit a up one last bar which was right down the road so we all walked.

At the last bar, I saw some more people from college that I hadn’t seen in a while, not necessarily friends but people who I knew of and could hang out with for a while. The 10-12 people I came with and the new group of people we found were all playing pool, sitting around, and drinking. As the night went on, more drinks were consumed and shots were bought…. By this time it was probably 1am in the morning. I decided I would ‘Houdini’ and leave without saying goodbye. I ordered myself an Uber and waited. I got the text that my ride was outside. I got in. I don’t remember the ride home but knew I was in safe hands to get home. I arrived home.

Since my wife drove home she had the keys to the house so I had to get our spare key and go through the front door. That’s the last thing I remember.

I woke up the next “morning”….completely unaware of where I was or how I got there. I believe I had just vomited but couldn’t see. It was pitch black and I couldn’t see anything in front of me. I rose from whatever I was laying on the night before. I tried to walk forward and was “stuck”. At this point I must have still been dreaming because I thought I was in a barn being kept against my own will (I know, weird). I had to piss and shit so bad but was freaking out because I couldn’t find my way out of wherever I was but also knew I didn’t want to shit where I was at the time. I started swinging my arms and yelling for help. As I swung my arms glass came crashing down so I swung my arms up and ceiling came toppling down. By this time I heard my wife yelling for me. I still had no idea where I was…. She yelled my name to which I replied “ help me I’m stuck!” Stuck where? She replied. Stuck where indeed. I didn’t know.

She could hear my voice in panic. She quickly turned on the lights to the basement stairway and I could see a sliver of light from under the door. I finally realized I was in my basement. I ran to the door and turned the basement lights on. I looked around. Finally realizing what I had done. I knocked all the bar glasses off our bar breaking most of them, punched a hole in our drop ceiling, vomited on the floor to which my phone was lying face down in and sandals on top. The reason I couldn’t get out… I was stuck behind a coffee table. How you ask? I don’t know, the coffee table felt infinite and I couldn’t find the end to be able to get around. At this point I think I was still pretty drunk.

My wife was up for work and was leaving around 6 am. After she made sure I was ok she took picture evidence of the “crime scene” and then left for work. I went up to bed and passed out until 1:30 pm. I woke up with not only a moral hangover from all the damage I did in the basement and damage to my bank account but probably one of the worst hangovers of my life. The whole day as I tried to clean up the basement and get my life back in order, any movement I made, made me sick. I threw up countless times that day. It wasn’t until about 7 pm that night that I started feeling any better.

One of the worst nights I had from drinking. In my life.

You know what the say – don’t start the night at Applebee’s if you’re afraid of getting lost in the sauce.

Until next time, everyone. .

40

Respond

Email this to a friend

Hey, I saw this on Post Grad Problems. Check it out.

Will

Will (Twitter / Instagram) is the host of The Sunday Scaries Podcast.

• @willdefries
• @willdefries
• defriewf
• will@grandex.co